Do you ever think to yourself, "Man, I am really messing this up!"? I think it fairly often. I used to think it even more than I do now. However, in the last year, I have become more aware than ever of grace. I have even learned to see the humor in my humanity. In the last couple of weeks, there have been incidents involving my children that have reminded me of how far I have to go, yet at the same time, provided me with a laugh at my own expense. I homeschool my oldest, and we include Bible in our course of study. One day, I asked Samuel to join us. I sat down with the lesson, and they joined me on the couch. Sort of. They were up and down, talking to each other. It went something like this: "1 Corinthians 13:4- Love is patient, love...SIT DOWN AND LISTEN!!" I immediately felt pretty ashamed of myself, but managed to finish the lesson with any major mishaps. A little while later I recounted the incident to a friend, and hearing it come out of my mouth, realized how funny it was. I began to laugh, and Lauren overhearing it, got hysterically tickled. I did apologize to the kids, but was thinking how amazing it is that God had grace for me in that situation, but so did my kids. That same day, we had plans to go to a rodeo parade. My 5 year old is somewhat of an introvert, and would rather sit home most days, playing video games or legos. I had already told them we were going, so when my request to get shoes on and get in the car was met with a near meltdown on his part, I snapped, "We cannot sit at home all the time! We are going to have fun!" I immediately realized how ridiculous it was. We're going to have fun, and you're going to like it! He looked at me like I was crazy. Time to breathe and count to 10.
Some days...well, most days...are so crazy. I am so used to my skin and clothes being wet, thanks to the infant in my house, that I wouldn't know what to do if I was dry. Spit, snot, food, milk, you name it. This child throws a back arching, head rearing fit when I try to wipe her nose with a tissue, yet when I pick her up, the first thing she does is wipe her nose on my shirt. On purpose. I am still breastfeeding the fit thrower, and at almost one year, with seven teeth, it's like nursing a bear trap. Today, she fell and hurt herself. She cried loudly and with passion. She has been teething and has a mild cold, and on top of that wouldn't nap today. I picked her up to soothe and calm her, and she wanted to nurse, as most babies do when they need comforting. I began to nurse her only to realize she had a poopy diaper. I knew if I quit nursing to change her diaper, she would have a meltdown of epic proportions, so what does any nearly crazy, but just sane enough mother who needs a stinkin' break do? I nursed her. Guess what she did? Went to sleep. Slack jawed, snoring, drooling sleep. Guess what I did? Held her. Partly for the quiet that I needed. Partly for the nap I knew she desperately needed. But also partly so I could study the contours of her sweet little forehead, nose and lips. So I could look at her long eyelashes and feel her sweet warmth against me. And drool. Don't forget the drool. (And a not so nice smell) At that moment, I thought to myself how thankful I am for God's grace. How thankful that my children show grace to their mother who is less than stellar at times. Then I realized that the biggest surprise is the grace I have developed for myself. And in the words of Nacho Libre, my life is guuud. Reeeelly guuud.
